


To Be Seen

by Joker_Lynn



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blind Character, Blind Roy Mustang, F/F, F/M, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-06-09 06:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15261729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joker_Lynn/pseuds/Joker_Lynn
Summary: With the Promised Day finally behind them, Edward and those he cares about must learn to adapt to all the things that have changed. Seems easy enough, but it seems like the world will always get in their way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first chapter of the first fanfiction I have written. I'll try to post often, but my work is very busy during the back to school season and I am not sure I will be able to. This chapter might be re-written in the future, but that will be after I've finished. Please comment if you have any constructive criticisms, and kudos if you so desire. Enjoy!

     When it’s all over, Edward doesn’t know how to process it. He feels… let off. Like everyone has been punished for his sins, and he is now faced with fewer consequences in the long run. 

     Once everyone is safely situated in the hospital and plans for rebuilding have begun, Edward makes a promise to himself.

_      I will use these things Truth has given me to makes things right. No matter if I have to fucking die to protect everyone.  _

* * *

 

     When his fight with Father is over, Ed looks down to see May in a human puddle at his feet. 

     “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Tears are trailing down the princess’s face. Ed didn’t realize how important Al had become to her.

     Then again, looking around he can’t help but think how fucking many people--his and Al’s friends, their family--care for them. It boggles his mind. He still can’t understand why.

     He looks back down at May and helps her to stand before placing his hand--weird to have both--on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault, May. It was his decision.” When Ed thinks about it, everything that’s happened somehow ties to their decisions. No one else should feel guilty for the choices Ed and Al have made.

     “Ed, I’ve got the toll for him,” Ed turns as Ling walks up with Lan Fan seemingly (understandably) glued to his side, “Take it, it’s a philosopher’s stone. Use it to bring him back.”

     Ed wants to. Fuck knows he wants to more than anything. But…

     “I can’t.”  Ed looks at the people around him--the people who love Al almost as much as him--then down, shake his head harshly. “As much as I want to, I can’t. I promised Al we’d never use a philosopher’s stone.” There has to be some way. Think, dammit, there’s got to be a way to get him back. Come on Ed, just think. Think!

     Edward jumps, feeling a hand on his shoulder--his right, when will that stop being weird--and turns to see his bastard father. The piece of shit has the nerve to look genuinely distraught.

     “Edward…” Ed’s already shaking him off and turning away, stopping when he hears “Use my life for the toll. Use me to save Alphonse, I’ve got just enough life left.”

     Ed’s frozen in shock. How could he think that? But it’s tempting. No. No, Al would never forgive him. Hell, Ed would never forgive himself.

     But just for a second, he entertains the thought before getting a hold of himself--Colonel Bastard might call it losing his temper, but close enough.

     “No, no way! I could never do that you dumb-ass! This has nothing to do with you, it’s our damn fault. I won’t use another human life to get Al back. And I don’t care who’s it is! Why should you sacrifice your life for our mistakes?” For my mistakes.

     The man just looks at him. God, his face looks miserable. Hohenheim sighs, looking Ed in the eyes as he continues on, “Because I’m his father. I’m your father, Ed. And that’s the only thing that matters. You don’t know how much you boys mean to me. And I know I’ve never been here, and I’m so sorry for that.” He closes his eyes and looks away, swallowing before opening his eyes and looking back to Ed, “I just want you both to be happy. And I do bear some responsibility for this, this might not have happened if I’d been there for you, or if I’d found a way to stop the Dwarf in the Flask sooner. I’m sorry, Ed. I’ve lived long enough. Just give me this chance, to act like a father for once in my life.”

     At the point, both their faces are drowning in tears. He can hear Armstrong and May, as well as several others, sobbing as well. But he pays them no mind.

     “Shut up, you rotten father! You say something that dumb again, and I’ll knock you out.” Fuck, the sobbing sure helps to punctuate that threat, doesn’t it? 

     But Hohenheim only walks closer. He again places his hands on Ed’s shoulders--plural, still weird--and this time Ed can’t find it in him to pull away. The bastard waits until Ed again looks him in the eyes.

     “I am your father. Your mistakes are my mistakes, too. That’s how being a father works, even if I’ve been an awful one. Let me fix my own mistakes and save my sons,” Hohenheim’s lip quirks up on one side, and he gets a gleam in his eyes before backing away slowly, “Besides, I think I have a pretty solid plan.” Ed’s eyes widen as he goes to yell at the man again, maybe tell him that he’s been useless as a father up to this point so why try making up for it now, but it’s too late.

     Around Hohenheim, a circle about four yards in diameter has begun glowing a bright blue. An alchemical barrier rises up from the circle, causing many to gasp and step back. Ed is still locked in place until Ling reaches over and pulls him out of the way.

     His dick of a father places his hands on his chest, closing his eyes and smiling up at nothing. The fucker.

     And then there is only light. 

* * *

     When Hohenheim opens his eyes, he sees it. There’s a sea of clean whiteness before him, and his gate behind him. A creature made up of only eyes sits cross-legged before him—the Truth. 

     “Well, well, well,” it smirks, “if it isn’t Van Hohenheim of Light. This is a surprise! I thought for sure it’d be your son who’d be stupid enough to come here again.”

     The Truth stands up, walking forward and looking up at the now reluctant Hohenheim. The steels himself before looking down at the creature. He is here for his sons. There is no time for fear or small talk. 

     “It is my job to keep them safe. Even though I haven’t in the past—especially because I haven’t. Take my life as the toll, and let my son go. There’s just enough left of my philosophers stone.”

     The Truth looks up at him, shock managing to cover his—face. Thing. Which is disturbing but nonetheless, now is not the time Hohenheim. Focus. 

     As he is distracted by his own internal dialogue, Hohenheim misses the moment when the Truth bursts out in laughter. 

     “I did not see this coming. You know what? I’ll cut you a deal. You and your son will return to those you love.”

     Hohenheim looks at the being in shock, opening his mouth to thank him profusely, but the Truth smirks as he shakes his head, continuing on. 

     “There is still the matter of your toll, of course,” because of course there is, “so here’s what I’ll do: you are now to live your life—a normal human lifespan—without the woman who you long so fiercely to have by your side again. If you try to end your life prematurely, I will take your son back.”

     Hohenheim gets over his shock quickly given the circumstances and goes to again thank him, but he is still not done. 

     “One last thing.” The Truth leans in to whisper his final condition. Hohenheim is again shocked. There are so many people who may be affected by this, but surely they’ll understand the decision he is about to make. The decision he has to make. 

     The decision he would make a million times over. 

     Hohenheim looks up at the Truth, his final choice made. 

     “I’ll do it.”

     The Truth smiles a Cheshire grin, and the white surround them faded to black. 

* * *

     When the white fades away, Ed’s eyes immediately zero in on Hohenheim’s relieved smile before they look to the ground. 

     The ground where Al is currently laying. The real Alphonse Elric. In the fucking flesh. 

     About damn time. 

     After making sure the kid is actually alive—he has a pulse, he’s breathing, everything’s fine—he looks back to his maybe not a bastard father. 

     “But… how? How did you… the toll?” Ed can’t think of any way Hohenheim could come back without paying anything. Unless… but… no way, how had he not thought of that yet?

     Hohenheim must have seen the moment of understanding and shock in Ed’s eyes, but for the benefit of everyone else occupying the parade ground, he brought his hands up to clap.

     Only nothing happened.

     May looked up from where she was crying into Al’s shoulder, “Wait, I don’t understand? What’d he give?”

     “He gave up his alchemy,” Ed jumped, seeing Roy at his side being guided by Riza, “Didn’t you?” Roy looked roughly in the direction of Hohenheim, blind eyes closed but head in the direction he must have heard the clap from.

     Those who had not understand the former alchemist’s clapping gesture gasped. Hohenheim only smiled, before telling them the rest; “That I did. The Truth also has told me that I will be forced to live a normal lifespan and age as I was meant to.”

     Snapping out of his shock, Ed latched onto the ‘forced’ part of his father’s statement, “What do you mean forced,” he croaked, “why does he have to force you to leave your life normally?”

     Hohenheim looked at his son sadly, “I’ve lived a long time Edward. I’m tired. We can talk more about it later. We have the time now.” Hohenheim smiled gently, placing one hand on each of his son’s shoulders. 

     Ed, wanting answers now, opens his mouth to ask again, but Al shoots him a deadly look so he decides to just not talk for a bit.

     It’s all a bit of a blur to Ed after that. It’s a bunch of pats on the back and uncomfortable hugs from people he doesn’t actually know, as well as less uncomfortable hugs from people he does. Eventually, the medics manage to get all the injured out of the crowd and into the hospital, where Al and Ed are both examined with a frankly terrifying intensity. It’s like these people have never seen an arm and an entire fucking body appear out of nowhere or something. When they finally leave them alone, Ed and Al have their own room with two twin beds. Hohenheim is sitting in an armchair, already snoring softly.

     And then Ed passes out the second his head hits the hospital pillow.

     He’s had a rough couple of days--well, years really--and he’s exhausted. He just punched a wannabe god. He deserves the rest.

* * *

     For the first time a long time, he manages to sleep peacefully without any dreams. He wakes slowly to the sound of people talking across the room. Trying to ignore them, Ed keeps his eyes shut and tries to fall back asleep.

     “I just thought I should let you and Edward know, Alphonse.” Okay, so that’s definitely Marcoh. Maybe he should listen in.

     “I heard from Doctor Knox that Mustang was sticking to his plans even after what he lost. Both to become Fuhrer and to do whatever he could to make up for Ishval. And I offered to help him in the only way I know how because if what happened in Ishval is anyone’s fault, it’s mine, not his,” Al made a noise beginning to protest, but Marcoh cut him off, ”No, Alphonse. It’s alright.”

     “But I don’t understand Marcoh. What did you offer him?” That would be Hohenheim, asking the question Ed himself was wondering.

     Marcoh was silent for a moment, seemingly preparing himself for what he was about to say.

     “I still have a Philosopher’s Stone.” 

     When there was no response, Marcoh continued on, “I offered to use it to try and return his eyesight to him. He said yes, but he requested that I use it to heal Lieutenant Havoc’s legs first.”

     “That sounds like him,” Al sighed, “but how does he plan to rule the nation blind?”   


     “He’ll find a way,” Ed heard the surprise of the others as he sat up and turned to face them, “If there’s one thing that man is good at, it’s working with what he’s got.”

     Ed could see by the looks on the face of his brother, father, and Marcoh that they were expecting him to be angry. Hell, he was expecting himself to be angry. He wasn’t though.

     Rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, Al looked at the men before him, “Calm down, I’m not pissed.” The three relaxed some but still looked hesitant.

     “Look,” Ed began to explain, “I know this can be easy to forget sometimes, but I am capable of thinking logically.”

     Ed stood up to find his shoes and jacket, “He didn’t deserve what happened to him and more than the souls in that stone deserved what happened to them.” Ed looked up from where he was putting his shoes on to see his father looking at him with something like pride in his eyes.

     “Don’t look at me like that, it’s fucking common sense!” Edward straightened up and began heading towards the door, “Now, what room is that bastard staying in any way?”

     Hohenheim and Marcoh both stood up, but Al was the one to speak up, “Brother, leave the man alone! He doesn’t deserve a lecture after everything he’s been through.” 

     Ed stopped and turned to face them, smirking slowly, “You’re right. He doesn’t. Don’t worry about it too much Al, you need your rest.” Ed turned and left, but not before hearing Al’s final comment:

     “That’s not comforting at all, brother!”

* * *

     After flashing his State Alchemist watch at a nurse, Ed was led to the bastard’s room. He could already hear the man’s voice complaining through the door.

     “I can’t see, but I can walk Hawkeye! I just need out of this room, I can feel the walls getting closer!”  Interrupting Hawkeye’s sigh before she could comment, Ed slammed the door open causing the occupants of the room to jump.

     “Stop your complaining, bastard, I can hear you from down the hall,” Ed smirked as the Mustang’s shocked face fell into something like a relieved smirk. And then a laugh.

     Okay, so Ed may have forgotten about the nurse who’d taken him here.

     Turning to look behind him, he saw the nurse glaring with a scandalized look splattered on her face. Okay, time for a little damage control before he got kicked out of another hospital.

     “Sorry, I never caught your name?” He smiled, he hoped pleasantly, at the girl, who looked back at him suspiciously. 

     She hesitated, looking back at Mustang before, responding to Ed, “Emily.”

     Ed tilted his head, attempting to imitate his mother’s warm smile and tone, “Thank you for taking me here, Emily. I’m sorry for what you just saw, it’s been a long couple of days.”

     Emily untensed, finally blushing and smiling understandably up at Ed, “I understand, completely, Major Elric. Let me know if you need anything else.” 

     “I will, thanks again Emily,” Ed moved to shut the door as she walked away, calling after her, “have a nice day!” 

     Emily looked back, blushing harder as she continued down the hall. Once she turned the corner, Ed shut the door before turning back to Mustang and Hawkeye, who looked torn between confusion and amusement.

     “Am I mistaken Fullmetal, or did you just flirt your way out of getting in trouble? I’ve always thought you were too short-tempered for that.” Mustang smirked at him looking slightly over his right shoulder.

     “I’ve found over the last year of being on the run that it’s the easiest way to get out of things. Learned it from you, ya know.” Ed started walking towards the chair by Mustang’s bed before stopping abruptly, glaring at the man, “And what the hell do you mean by short anyway? I’m only, like, an inch shorter than you now anyway. Actually, I’ve been limping some lately” Ed looked down at his automail leg, lifting it off the ground slightly to align his hips better, “We might be the same height now. I need a new leg.”

     Mustang let out a huff of laughter as Ed sat down in the chair kicking his legs up onto the edge of his commanding officer’s bed, “First of all, Fullmetal, I was actually referring to your temper and not your height this time. Second, I haven’t seen you in a year so how would I know how much you’ve grown. And last, the sentence ‘I need a new leg,’ only sounds sane coming from you.”

     Ed smirked, glad to hear the dark humor from the man. You know someone is going to be alright when they can joke about their situation.

     Mustang’s face returned to his usual mask before asking, “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?”

     “Can’t I just visit my CO and teammate?” Mustang gave him a look.

     Ed wondered if being blind will ever take that away from the man.

     “Okay fine,” Ed sighed and watched Mustang’s face carefully, “I heard from Marcoh that he offered to heal your eyes, after healing Havoc’s legs. And I also heard that you said yes.” Ed could practically see the moment Mustang shut down.

     Hawkeye sat up quickly, “Edward, you don’t understand-”

     “Lieutenant,” Mustang looked towards Hawkeye, “Stay out of this.”

     Mustang turned back towards Edward, straightening his shoulders and seemingly trying to keep his composure, “I knew you’d be angry about this, but-”

     “Don’t assume how I feel, bastard,” Mustang may not be able to see Ed’s glare but surely he can feel it, “I’m not mad.”

     Mustang looked at Ed, his guards falling and his shock showing clearly on his face.

     Scooting the chair closer to the man’s bed, Ed smiled as he said, “I understand. And I think you should accept the offer.”

     Ed sighed, looking down at his two flesh hands and gathering his thoughts before continuing on, “Al and I deserved what we lost. Well, maybe not Al, but I sure as hell did. Izumi did, too. You were forced to see the gate,” Ed looked up at Mustang’s unseeing face, “No one should have to see that. And people who haven’t experienced it will never truly be able to understand.”

     Mustang blinked rapidly looking at Ed--somehow--with a grateful look in his eyes.

     “Don’t mention it,” Ed interrupted before the man could say anything, standing up to leave, “Take the offer. Also, welcome to the club of the damned. The only members at the moment are Al, Teacher, my old man, your’s truly, and now you. Let’s keep it that way.” 

     Ed turned to leave, but stops when he hears Mustang’s question,

     “When are you going to want your military exit papers?”

     Ed looks back at the man with a burst of laughter, “Military exit papers? I’m not leaving the military, it’s all I know at this point. Besides, I still owe you 520 cenz. Might as well be here to keep your dumbass alive ‘til it’s time to pay up.” Ed winked before again turning to walk out the door.

     As he walked away, Ed called over his shoulder,

     “By the way, I just winked bastard.” He smirked before closing the door and going to find the cafeteria.


	2. Chapter 2

     Edward had never even considered the possibility that it wouldn’t work.

     Well, I guess none of them had ever had very good luck, to begin with. And at least Havoc will make a full recovery.

     After Breda called Havoc to tell him to get to the Central Hospital, the man managed to get there only two days later. After Doctor Marcoh explained the situation, Havoc protested, claiming that Mustang needed his sight more than he needed his ability to walk. Mustang, however, was insistent.

     Watching Havoc walk on his own two legs again--he’d need physical therapy, but it was a start--made Ed’s heartache with happiness for him.

     It also made his stump ache all the more.

     That is definitely psychosomatic, but still. Logically he knew that Havoc hadn’t deserved  what happened to him, but… that didn’t make it hurt less. That everyone seemed to be getting what that’d lost back.

     Ed got Al, and he even got his arm, but his leg… it’s a constant reminder of the worst mistake he ever made. Like he even needed a reminder. And it would always be there.

     It seems it will always be his cross to bear.

     He felt guilty when after nearly an hour of attempts Marcoh gave up when the fog failed to lift from Mustang’s eyes. 

     Mustang’s good, Ed’ll give him that. He doesn’t let the disappointment show for more than a split second before he talks Marcoh out of his guilt. Havoc takes a bit longer, but with the combined efforts of Hawkeye and Mustang, he calms down and the guilt lifts slightly from his face. Hawkeye takes him and the exhausted and disappointed Marcoh to find food, and eventually, Ed and Mustang are left alone.

     Ed slowly moves forward to sit on the chair by his CO’s bed, scraping his chair across the floor to alert the man of his presence.

     The man continues to stare blankly at the wall. Obviously. But his face is set in a stony expression, his neck and shoulders tense. Ed, with nothing better to say, sighs heavily.

     “I’m so sorry, Mustang.”

     The man says nothing, but all of his walls crumble. Until this moment, Ed has never seen him this vulnerable, even when his sight was first stolen from him. Ed stands up to shut the door to the room, telling the guard that Hawkeye had insisted on to let no one in, including Hawkeye. Apparently, as a newly minted Brigadier General, he has this ability.

     The moment he sat back in his chair, Mustang shattered completely.

     Ed watched, startled at seeing the man in this state, before moving to sit on the edge of the bed and pulling his face into the shoulder that was free of scrap metal.

     Without pulling away, Mustang mutters, “It’s not fair.”

     “I know. It’s really fucking not.”   


     “I just,” Mustang sits back and attempts to gather his composure, “I’ve given every piece of me to this country and its people, but it feels like I only ever lose in the end.”

     Yeah. Ed knows the feeling.

* * *

     It wasn’t until a couple of days later when the Xingese trio was preparing to leave that Ed had his idea.

     The now General Roy Mustang was sitting on a bench in the hospital courtyard when Ed, Al, Winry, and May walked past. At the insistence of Winry and May, they four stopped with him.

     By the time they were next to him, Mustang had already looked up.

     “Fullmetal, short as ever I see.”

     There was tense silence between the five before Ed smirked, “Impressive that you know me by step alone, bastard. I’d say I’m willing to look past that comment, but neither of us is in the position to  _ look _ past anything.”   


     While Mustang lowered his head to laugh, the others let out relieved sighs at the possible crisis averted.

     “I see your point,” at this Ed let out a bark of laughter, “How may I help you all?’

     With Ed’s help, Al sat on the bench next to the general, “We just wanted to see how you were doing, sir. I myself haven’t had the chance to really speak with you in several months, and I don’t believe you and Mai have had much of a chance to get to know each other.” 

     “Princess May Chang, Mister. It’s a pleasure to meet you formally.” She curtsied reflexively before seeming to realize it was fruitless.

     Mustang, however, furrowed his brow, looking quizzically at May, “May I ask if you have an uncle on your mother’s side with the name Lee Chang?”

     May thought on this for a moment, before responding, “Yes, actually, I believe I do. May I ask why General Mustang?” Mustang smiled towards May, now able to look at her more directly after hearing her voice.

     “There’s no need for you to call me General Mustang, Princess. We are, after all, cousins.”

     This span of silence lasts longer than the first.

     “C-cousins? How? Sorry, I don’t understand, I’ve never heard of you.”

     “No, you wouldn’t have,” Mustang pats the bench next to him, encouraging May to sit at his side, “You mother and uncle had another sister, named Ma Chang. She died twenty-three years ago.”

     “And she was…?” Winry asks, hand over her mouth. Mustang looks at Winry, tilting his head and smiling.

     “My mother, Mrs. Rockbell, yes,” Mustang nodded, “She left Xing when she was fifteen to study in Central.”

     “And your father?” Al asks.

     Mustang hesitates, before nodding and saying, “Yes, he was half Xingese. I was raised by his sister.”

     Winry paused for a moment before, “I’m sorry, did you say half as in-”

     “Well, Al looks like he’s getting tired,” Ed hastily interjects, “Would you ladies please take him back to our room?” 

     Winry looks she is going to protest before May and Al each grab one of her elbows and drag her back into the building. Watching as the trio vanishes through the courtyard entrance, Ed limps towards the bench--Win hasn’t gotten around to replacing his leg yet--before sitting himself heavily beside Mustang. As he sits, he feels a bolt of pain shoot through his shoulder. He reaches up to massage it gently, and waits a moment before speaking, letting the silence settle around them comfortably.

     “I’m sorry about Winry,” he sighs, “She tells me I’m shit in the tact department, but sometimes she doesn’t know when to shut up. She’s curious as hell by nature.”

     “I’d say that’s something the two of you have in common. Speaking of things in common, I see that Alphonse and the young princess are getting along well.” Ed laughs deeply at this, as Mustang smiles ahead.

     “You could say that. I’d say almost too well, I don’t think I’m prepared for dealing with Al’s potential love interests.”

     Mustang nods in solidarity, “Completely understandable, I was the same way when Riza started dating around. But, I got over it quickly. She can be quite intimidating when she wants to be if you hadn’t noticed.”

     “No I hadn’t,” Ed scoffs, “So the two of you aren’t a thing? You and the lieutenant? ‘Cause as kids Al and I always assumed you were.”

     “No, never. Riza is more like a younger sister to me than anything. What about you and Miss. Rockbell? Are the two of you still seeing each other?”

     “No, ew, same deal. She’s basically my sister. Anyway, I’ve never really swung that way.”

     This is the first time in recent memory Ed can remember leaving his CO speechless. He quickly moves on though.

     “Anyway, you know you don’t have to call me Fullmetal, right? We’ve been through a fuck ton together, you may as well call me Ed.”

     Mustang tilts his head towards Ed with a look of gradually growing surprise, “I’ll call you Edward if you call me Roy.” Mu--Roy holds his hand out.

     Ed waits a moment before shaking the bastards hand, doing his best to hide the ache in his shoulder.

     “It’s a deal--Roy.”

* * *

     On his way back to the room he and Al are sharing, Ed runs into Ling and Lan Fan. That’s when he thinks of it. This is how he can help, and make up for the things he gained without really earning.

     “Yo, Greedling!”

     Ling stops and turns to look at Ed, Lan Fan his ever-present  shadow, “Just Ling now, Ed.” 

     “Ya, whatever. Hey listen, are you two and May gonna be hanging around for the next couple weeks?”

     “I think so. We have to bring the stone back to my people,” Ling turns to look at Lan Fan, who nods, “Why?”

     “Think you could extend that a few weeks? I need to borrow your bodyguard for a while.”

* * *

     “You dumbass! Why didn’t you say anything sooner? Do you have any idea what walking on damaged automail can do to you?”

     “Win, I know, I’m sorry! But, I’ve been busy, okay? A lot has been happening, and Al has a body now and the bastard is blind and my leg is kind of the last thing on my mind!”

     Winry looks at Ed, shaking her head at the familiar words. Ed’s never been good at putting himself first. He’s always put the wants and needs of Al and herself before his own, be it in the journey to recovering Al’s body or the pseudo-long-distance relationship between Ed and herself, he does what he thinks others want.

     But he really should get over that.

     “Fine. Sit down.”

     When they found out that Ed would be getting automail surgery, the hospital staff set aside a room that would double as both the surgery and the recovery room. After inspection, Winry noticed that the leg port was not only damaged but far too small--it had begun to dig into his the fatty portions of his mid-thigh. They would have to be completely removed, replaced, and reconnected. Add to that the scrap metal that Winry wanted to remove his shoulder, and this was going to be a lengthy and painful procedure.

     Dr. Knox offered to work on Ed’s shoulder, while May would assist with artificial wounds along the way. Anything relating to Ed’s leg and automail would be left to Winry. Due to Ed’s distraught of others being near him when he was this vulnerable, they would be the only ones working on him aside for two nurses Dr. Knox knew and trusted.

     Ed ran into Roy before the surgery started. 

     “You sent the Prince and Lan Fan to come to see me, didn’t you.”   


     “Hell ya I did! If you’re sticking to your goals, you need to get acquainted with the future Emperor.”

     “But that’s not why you sent them, is it?” Roy looked suspicious.

     “No. I’d love to talk to you about it more, but I can’t right now. Right now I’m entering an approximately,” Ed glances down at his pocket watch, “Nine-hour surgery.”

     “On who?”

     Ed smirks and laughs, “On me. Remember that new leg I mentioned? Plus some other stuff.”

     “Right of course,” Roy looked hesitant for a moment, “Would you mind terribly if I sat in?”

     Well. Ed really didn’t know how to respond to that.

     He looked into the man’s vacant eyes, like the answers would be there, “Why would  you want to? It’s pretty gory. Brutal as hell, people don’t always get that.”

     Roy was already nodding as he said, “Of course, I understand that. It’s not like I can see it anyway.”

     “It’s not just the way it looks. There is a lot of screaming, and a lot of Winry trying to get me to calm down.”

     Roy shrugs slightly, “I’ve heard a lot of horrible things, Edward. It’s difficult to really affect me at this point. Plus,” Roy looks at Ed--well, more his ear but close enough, “We’ve known each other for several years now. As your CO--as your friend, I hope--I’d like to be able to at least somewhat understand how it affects you.”

     Sometimes, Ed forgets just how good of a man the bastard is. He hides it so well sometimes, and anyway Ed never really wanted to think good of him. Not that he has no good reason to dislike the man, he seems to be able to read him and his intentions much clearer. 

     “Fine. You’ll have to talk to Winry first, but I’m okay with it.

* * *

     Winry agrees, as long as May and Dr. Knox are okay with it. When they are, she tells Roy he has to go through all the same sanitary preparations as them. They aren’t really too worried about the risk of infection, but better safe than same.

     When Ed is settled on the table, and Know and May is doing a quick exam--so that they have all of the same information as Winry--Roy tasks a moment to speak with Winry.

     “Ms. Rockbell, do you mind if I ask you some questions while they work?”

     Winry looks at Roy. She isn’t entirely sure why he wants to be her, or why Ed is alright with it, but who is she to say no--as long as he stays out of the way.

     “Of course, General. What would you like to know.”

     “Well, the main one is why doesn’t Edward allow you to put him under for the duration of the surgery?”

     Winry sighs--she really wishes Ed would let her. Sometimes she stills hears him screaming in her dreams. “For the same reason, there are only four people other than us and Ed. The same reason I’m the only one he’ll let work on his automail if he can help it,” she looks over at Ed sadly, “He doesn’t trust anyone, really. Never has. Aside from Al and I, anyway. And then you apparently, and anyone you trust.”

     Roy is very pleased to hear the extent of Edward’s trust in him, but it hurts him more to hear the extent of his distrust for everyone else.

     “My other question is somehow more personal. Whatever happened between Edward and yourself?”

     Winry burst into laughter, “Me and Ed? Oh, no. Never. I mean, we tried some while he was traveling, but it never really worked. Plus, I think Ed prefers playing the field more than being tied down to a girl he’s in a long distance relationship with. I don’t think girls are really his thing anyway, you know?”

     Roy doesn’t know why he is so happy to hear that last bit. But he is.

     “Winry!” May calls over to the mechanic.

     Winry rushes over, “What is it, what’s wrong?”

     Roy stands up and moves closer to the group, as the threes “doctors” surround Ed. Ed covers his face with both flesh hands as he listens to Knox explain. 

     “The metal in Ed’s shoulder is in several highly risky areas. They are currently causing nerve, vein, and muscle damage already, but if we try to remove them it will make it far worse. Whether we leave the metal in or try to remove it, I’m positive he will lose most of--if not all--the function in his right shoulder arm.”

     There’s silence.

     “You mean, you’ll have to…”

     Ed interrupts Roy, talking through his hands, “They’ll have to remove it. Again.”

     Ed sighs and removes his hands from his face, laying them at his sides on the table as he looks at the ceiling. He just fucking got it back, this isn’t fair.

     But life’s never been fair for him, has it?

     He keeps his face intentionally blank as he says to them,

     “Just fucking do it already.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry--to anyone that cares, anyway--that this took so long. My only excuses are work, college, and moving. Just general stress and anxiety, really. But, here's a decently sized chapter. I probably won't get another one posted before August 15th, but I will try my best. I'd like to get three in before the end of the month.  
> Anyway, thank you for reading! Enjoy! :)

     Roy watched as Miss Rockbell tried to convince Edward to let her sedate him, however even with the knowledge of the upcoming removal of his arm, the young man refused. After this continued for ten minutes—the two blondes are equally stubborn—Roy decided to step in.

     “That’s enough, both of you,” he waited for their bickering to settle down before throwing out a few orders, “Here’s what's going to happen. Edward, you will allow Miss Rockbell to sedate you.”

     “Where the hell do you get off on—” Roy held his hand up, waiting for the silence that usually follows.

     It does.

     Yeah. He’s still got it, blind or not.

     “You will allow her to sedate you, for the surgeries that will be required to add your ports. After those are completed, you will spend a full twenty-four hours in your hospital room recovering. Correct me if I’m wrong, Miss Rockbell, but you can do the surgeries for the port and the actual connections of the limbs separately, yes?”

     When she doesn’t correct him, he carries on. “After those twenty-four hours, the rest of the procedures will carry on as normal without the sedation. Can you both agree to that?”

     Even without seeing him, Roy could practically feel as Edward considered his terms before looking at him. “I don’t like the idea of being vulnerable. That’s why I don’t want to be knocked out.”

     Roy nodded, “I’m aware of that, and I empathize with that more than you know. But I promise you will always have me or one of my men with you. You won’t just be ‘knocked out’ and vulnerable.”

     Edward was silent, before agreeing.

     Now let the actual fun begin.

* * *

 

     As she stands—cringing each time she saws at her best friends shoulder—Winry can't help but feel glad that she doesn’t have to hear Ed’s screams this time around. The drugs have brought it down to quiet moaning.

     Maybe it’s selfish of her. But is it? Winry is just so glad she doesn’t have to hear and see Ed in pain. Physical pain anyway.

     She doesn’t understand how General Mustang was able to convince Ed to be sedated, but he did.

     That’s another reason she owes the man, Winry thinks.

* * *

 

     When Ed finally wakes up, it’s rather slow. Everything feels foggy and heavy… except for his right arm. Where there should be more weight, there isn’t.

     Maybe if he keeps his eyes closed, he won’t have to acknowledge it.

     “You’re awake.”

     There goes that dream.

     Ed moves his head to look over at Al—fortunately in a bed on his left side, so he doesn’t have to look past his arm. Or, lack-there-of.

     “How are you feeling, brother?”

     Ed turns his head to look up at the ceiling. He sighs. “Light. I feel lighter than I should.”

     He can feel Al cringe from across the room. They’ve always been close like that.

     The thing is, Ed never really thought he’d get anything back. He assumed they’d get Al back into his body, but that his own arm and leg were gone for good. When he woke up and had an arm, he was grateful. It was more than he ever could have hoped for. To have that taken away, even if it wasn’t something he had originally expected, hurt more than he could actually comprehend. The worst part of all of this was that he feels guilty for feeling upset. He shouldn’t have gotten anything back in the first place. He didn't deserve it. And people like his father and Roy—the poor fucking bastard—had lost so much more than he thinks he could ever survive.

     He’s pretty sure Al knows all this. Pretty sure he understands Ed’s emotions better than most. Sometimes better than Ed himself.

     “I’m so sorry, brother,” Ed’s head snapped towards his brother, making his eyes blur for a moment before he adjusts to the quick motion, “I’m sorry that after everything we went through, all you’ve done and survived, you couldn’t have this one thing.”

     The expression on Al’s face was pitiful.

     Ed couldn’t stand his face looking like that, “Hey, Al. Look at me. Please,” Ed waited for his brother to look him in the eye and than continued on, “Don’t worry about it, Al. I never expected to get back anything but your body anyway.”

     That may have been the wrong thing to say.

     His brother’s emotions seem to explode out of him, “I don’t care what you expected brother! My only goal was to get your body back! And we did, at least partially. After everything we’ve given to this fucking country, why does this always happen to us? It’s not fair, brother!”

     “Alphonse!” At Ed’s stern yell--he tries not to bring it out but it still exists--Al finally seems to deflate, “No. You're right. It’s not fair. But I’m alive, right? And you’re alive. Roy, Hawkeye, Armstrong and his sister, Izumi, even our bastard father. They’re all alive. And as much as it sucks that I lost my arm again, at least it’s my arm and not any of us.”

     To this, Al’s jaw drops and he is silent. His eyes dart to the doorway. Ed looks over to see Hawkeye with Roy’s hand at her elbow.

     “Alphonse, would you mind accompanying Riza on a walk through the gardens? I’d like to speak with Edward for a bit.”

     With that, Hawkeye guides Roy to the chair at Ed’s bedside, and then helps Al out of bed, into shoes, and hesitantly out the door.

* * *

 

     “Three months.”

     “Edward, how can you possibly expect to be ready for active duty in only three months? Be reasonable!”

     “When does Lan Fan expect you will be ready to go back?”

     Roy and Ed have been arguing on when Ed will be physically prepared to go back to work for—well, a long time. In response to Ed’s question, Roy is silent.

     “Three months, right? For my first surgery ever, I recovered in a year. I feel confident I can do that in three months this time around, and I don’t like the idea of you going back without me.”

     Roy smirks at this, “Feeling protective, Edward?” The man’s smirk drops when Ed takes a minute to respond.

     “Yeah, bastard. I am. We've all lost too much already. And don’t pretend you don’t feel the same way.”

     Roy hesitates before nodding. “Okay. So in three months, we will both make our heroic return together. Now, what was that I saw when I got here?”

     “Well, as to what you saw, I’d say nothing,” Ed ignores Roy’s sarcastic laugh and continues, “But what you heard was an argument brought on by guilt, anger, exhaustion, and disappointment.”

     Again, Roy nods at this, “Understandable. It really isn’t fair, is it?”

     “No, it’s not. But seriously, when has my life ever been? And that’s not me trying to sound whiny, either, it’s just common knowledge that bad shit seems to happen to me and the people close to me.”

     “Well, Edward, that we have in common,” Roy leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “Maybe our bad luck will cancel out if we actually put effort into working together.”

     It’s Ed’s turn to nod, “I hope so. Not gonna lie though, three months of not chasing after people and playing government games will be fucking nice, don’t you think?”

     “Oh yes, on that we agree. It’ll be good for both of us. What will you be doing during that time, Edward?”

     “Well, once I stabilize some from this first surgery, Winry’ll wanna transfer me back to Resembool so Pinako can help out with the surgeries and recovery. Then Al and I will stay there to recover until it’s time to come back here. Also, I was thinking…” Ed hesitates, but when Roy nods for him to continue, he does, “Maybe you could come to Resembool with us? For your training, obviously. And to get you out of this shithole of a city for a bit.”

     Ed’s surprised when he sees Roy nodding, “Of course. I didn’t want to say anything but I was thinking along the same lines. Princess May will want to be around Alphonse, and Prince Ling will likely want to stay with her before they travel back.”

     Ed wasn’t sure why this response disappointed him. He was glad Roy had agreed, but he wasn’t sure he sounded like he wanted to be.

     Ed failed to catch the relief in Roy’s eyes when he realized Edward hadn’t caught on to his excitement.  

* * *

 

     It was three days later that their group left for Resembool. After Roy had finalized his and Ed’s return to active duty for July fifth and Winry had set up proper transport for Ed and Al, they left.

     Their party consisted of Ed himself, and of course Al, Hohenheim, and Winry. The Xing group, consisting of Ling, May, and Lan Fan came as well, and rounding out the group was Roy, and his shadow Hawkeye. The General had secured them a private car, where they’d had two beds brought in and bolted to the floor and walls. Two guards Hawkeye had vetted herself stood at each door, guns at their sides.

     Ed hated guns. And he hated, even more, the fact that they needed the guards when there were four hellishly powerful alchemists present. Though, all of which were currently unfit for action.

     When they were all situated on the train, Ling, Hohenheim, and May quickly sat in a corner to discuss… well, something. Ed couldn’t really hear them. Lan Fan stood next to them. It didn’t look like she was listening to them, but Ed knew that she was listening to every conversation in the car.

     Hawkeye was seated next to Al’s bed, apparently finishing the conversation they’d had in the gardens. Roy was seated next to Ed’s bed, doing the same. Eventually, their plans for after they’d finished recovery become their main discussion topic. For this, Al and Hawkeye joined in.

     “Well, obviously I’m coming back to Central to rejoin the military, you know that. I still owe you 520, but I’m gonna wait ’til you deserve it,” Ed smirks over at Roy, who knowingly smirks back, “My one condition is that I will only ever serve under your command, Roy. If you ever decide you’re done, I'm out.”

     “Noted,” Roy nods, “I retain the same goals I always have. One day I will be the Führer of Amestris. Until then, I’d like to focus on the rebuilding of Ishval, which I’m assuming you three agree with. Along with that, I’d like to establish trade routes with Xing. In that regard, I actually have a proposition for you, Alphonse. After, of course, you tell us your own plans.”

     In Ed’s head, he’s threatening the bastard with everything he’s got in the hopes he won’t rope Al into a military contract or anything. He tries to remind himself it’s Al’s choice anyway, and that Roy would never force either of them into anything.

     “I’d like to return to Central as well, so I can attend the university. Get my alchemical research degree, potentially a government studies degree of some sort. I was planning to continue traveling and research as I do. There’s a theory brother and I have been working on… but I’m definitely intrigued by your statement.”

     Ed cringed.

     “I mentioned establishing trade routes with Xing, yes? I’ve already spoken with the prince, and he agrees that having an ambassador when that time comes is essential. You already have—shall we say—close ties to the country," cut to Roy smirking and Al blushing, "so naturally you were the first who came to mind. After, of course, you finish your education.”

     Well, that’s certainly better than the state alchemist program.

     Al was nodding thoughtfully as Roy spoke, and when the man stopped he spoke up. “Ignoring your comment on my ‘close ties’, I think I may take you up on that offer. When the time comes of course.”

     “I am glad to hear that. Riza, I hope I know where you stand in regards to your plans.”

     “I’m sure you do, sir. Of course, I’ll be with you until the very end.”

     Even knowing the true nature of Roy and Hawkeye’s relationship, Ed wasn’t sure he liked that phrasing.

     “Good. Now, there is one last thing I would like to discuss with you three. How do the three of you feel about participating in a super secret spy syndicate?”

     Oh, Truth help them all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roy gets a break from the pain this round. Now it's Ed's turn.  
> This is all from Roy's POV  
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Comment and leave kudos if you like it or have any constructive criticisms!
> 
> Enjoy! :D

“So. Let me get this shit show straight.”

Roy sighed, knowing Edward would have something to say about his… second life, so to speak. Or first life, depending on how one looks at it.

“Your aunt, who’s also your adoptive mother, owns that seedy bar down on fourth that got blown to shit? And all the girls that work there fuck guys to get information, which you then use here?”

“Brother, don’t be rude!”

“Alphonse, it’s fine. Nothing he said was incorrect, just poorly worded.”

“Fuck all of you and your damned semantics. What does any of this have to do with us?”

To respond, Roy let his voice carry throughout the car to the people pretending not to listening, “Actually, everyone present could be useful to me. My aunt, of course, has her own intelligence network which I am privy to. But being the only one in my own circle with connections to them, especially in my current circumstances, makes any meeting I have with my girls potentially dangerous. So I was thinking—”

“Spread the love,” Ed sounded thoughtful, “We’d each meet with the girls, and take the information to you, right? Since us being your subordinates means us talking to you is normal.”

Roy nodded hesitantly, “Yes, Edward. Something like that. However, two things to add. The first is that I’d like to spread my network out farther, so as to further cover Amestris and to have information pathways to Xing. I myself have friends amongst the lower classes in Xing, at least within the Capital. But it would be useful to have the help of Lan Fan, the Princess, and the Prince, as well as Alphonse if he becomes an ambassador.”

This time, it is Ling who responds, “The General and I have already discussed this some. I agree it could be useful to both of us in reaching our goals.”

“Exactly,” Roy agrees, “The second thing I'd like to add is the matter of getting the information you all gather to me. I’d prefer to not be too close to any of the girls--or my aunt, for that matter--at this stage of my plans. It would also appear odd if I am frequently speaking to Winry, Hohenheim, or any of those that they speak to. The only person whom it wouldn’t appear strange to be speaking to both them and myself, seeing as they’re already close to both parties, would be—”

“Me,” Ed interrupted again, nodding, “Okay, I see where you're going. Especially since I’m highest ranking under your command, it makes sense for us to be sharing information on a regular basis. Are you going to want me to be meeting up with the girls too, or would that seem weird from the outside?”

Roy paused for a moment to think. He steepled his hands together across his face, before weaving his fingers together and continuing, “Yes and no. I’d prefer you not be seen entering the Madame’s new bar, because as you mentioned before it is known for being a—how did you put it—‘seedy’ establishment.” Roy again looked at Ed, “how do you feel about utilizing the underground? It connects directly to the newly built building to allow them an escape route if necessary.”

Ed nods, “Ya, no shit. Why would I have a problem with stuff like that now, it’s how I’ve lived for what, four years?”

Roy smirked, tipping his head in acknowledgment, “I’m well aware, Edward, I just thought I’d ask. You’ll get information directly from the Madame, as well as from the others if they have information that the girls and the Madame do not. You'll also be the liaison between your brother and me." Roy turned to aforementioned brother, "Alphonse, when you become ambassador to Xing there will be information that is safe to pass directly to me, and information that is not. You'll gather that information from the others and give it to your brother in any way you find secure. Edward will then bring it to me. If you’re all comfortable with this, those of you who find yourselves in Central or in correspondence with any of my girls, you may leave the information with them. Objections?”

When Roy’s question was met with silence, he smiled brightly and clapped his hands together, “Fantastic. Oh, this will be fun. Now, how are we going to make it through seven more hours on a train without wanting to strangle each other?”

In response, everyone just groaned.

* * *

 

Roy hadn’t been to Resembol since he first met the Elrics.

Sometimes he forgets how close it is to Ishval, at least in comparison to East City and Central. How it’s almost a perfect mesh, climate-wise, of Central and Ishval. Walking out of the train with Riza on his left elbow, he swears in his head that he can smell sand on the air, and feel heat billowing around him. Logically he knows the smell of sand at least is only in his head. Around him, he knows, is endless farmland, green as far as one can see. It must be beautiful in all of its simplicity.

He doesn’t quite understand why he wishes he could see it. He never cared before.

Pinako had spoken with several people who lived in the village near their land and traded some favors so they could use some of their vehicles to travel the long way from the station to Rockbell house. With the effort of Winry, Hohenheim, Riza, the Prince, and Lan Fan, they were able to situate the brothers into the vehicles before they continued on.

Riza told Roy when the house was in sight, and that a short elderly woman was waiting for them with a dog next to her barking excitedly. With them also stood a young woman. Winry pushed her way out of the moving vehicle and yelled for her,

“Paninya! Why are you here?”

The sound of a collision and a fall cut off the women’s answer as they came to a stop. “Oh,” Roy heard Edward, who sat in a cot to his right, murmur, “Ya, guess that makes sense.”

Roy turned to him as the others began lifting the two bedridden men to the ground, “What makes sense?”

“Winry and Paninya. Wonder if they’ve told each other yet.”

As Edward was rolled into the house, Pinako yelling at him for getting injured yet again, Roy stood in confusion momentarily. Then, suddenly he understood. All of these things were much easier to navigate when he had facial cues and body language to go by.

He reached for Riza’s elbow, and together they walked up the steps and into the house. 

* * *

 

Pinako and Winry had decided that they would wait a day or two to continue Edward’s surgeries, to allow him to recover from the day-long train ride

Lan Fan had no such mercy.

“What do you sense right now, General?”

Roy huffed. They’d been outside, a good ten minute walk from the house, for at least four hours. “Exhausted.”

Suddenly he felt his arms being twisted behind his back. As he struggled, Lan Fan lectured him while the prince and Riza laughed a short distance away.

He never thought Riza would betray him this way. Perhaps a gun to the head, but this was just cruel. needless humiliation.

“You must focus. I am only doing this as a favor to the Elrics, and because I feel that you are what this country needs to cleanse itself of the darkness that still clings to it. Now,” She let him go and stepped away, “What do you sense?”

Roy sighed, allowing his eyes to shut and block out the limited light perception he had left, “I can hear the creek to my right. I also hear Riza and Prince Ling, something like twenty paces to my left. I know Riza’s left eyebrow just rose at that,” he smirked as she let out a laugh, knowing he was correct, and focused harder, “And…” he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, “Something else. I’m not actually sure what that is.”

“What does it feel like?”

Roy opened his eyes and squinted in confusion. At the back of his mind, he wondered if he should mention what he could see, but brushed it away for later.

“Breathing.”

“Yes,” Lan Fan said, “That is good, General. And it only took you four hours. You learn quickly, it takes most months to pick that up. That is the beginning of your ability to feel the energy and movement of chi. If you are able to master that, you will to an extent be able to know the positions and movements of the living things around you. If May and Edward can figure out a way to tie that to alchemy like they discussed last night, you may even be able to extend your knowledge of your surroundings to objects. Until then, we will stop for the day.”

Lan Fan moved to stand in front of him, “But I have one question for you, General.”

“Of course. You’re doing all this for me, ask away.”

“What can you see?”

Roy froze. Can this women read minds?

… Actually, scratch that, she definitely can.

Roy heard Riza and Prince Ling walk towards them, before he sighed, “Nothing, really. Before Marcoh’s stone, it was complete blackness, flat like a room with no light or windows. But after…” he hesitated and scratched at the back of his neck, “I could see light. Not completely, just the outline of a window when it was very sunny, or if I look up I can see the position of the sun when the sky is clear.”

Riza touched Roy’s elbow gently, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Turning to her, Roy turned his head upwards before answering, “I was afraid I wasn’t actually seeing anything. That it was all in my head. And if it turned out I was wrong, I’d lose that small comfort. So I kept it to myself.”

“General,” Lan Fan caught his attention, “Point to the sun. We will tell you whether you are right or not.”

Roy hesitated, not sure he wanted to before finally nodding. He turned slightly to his left and pointed up and past Riza’s head.

Dropping his hand, he toward back to his companions.

It was the prince who answered Roy's unasked question, laughing, “You were right, General. You're no crazier than I already believed you to be.”

* * *

 

When it was finally time for the surgery to add the newly made ports to Edward’s shoulder and leg, Roy was present for the entire unfortunate process.

“Are you sure your going to be okay with anesthetic?” Roy had tried to change Edward’s mind but had been faced with a seemingly immovable obstacle: the man’s paranoia.

Edward hesitated before responding, “Yes. Well, not okay. It’ll hurt like hell. But I’ve done it before. I’d rather the pain than the grogginess.”

Roy nodded. If he were honest with himself, he knew that he would probably make the same decision. As much as he loathes pain, Roy is also very aware how much of it he can handle. And in most cases, his need to be aware of what is happening around him outweighs his dislike of pain. Nodding again, Roy stood and moved away from the bed Edward was sprawled out on. Pinako and Winry took his place.

“Edward,” Pinako sighed, “Are you sure about the anesthetic? We won’t think differently of you if you take it.”

“Granny.”

“Fine, fine. Are you ready Winry?”

“As I’ll ever be, gramma. Edward?”

This time without hesitation, Edward replied, “Always. And bastard,” to this Roy perked up, “Are you sure you want to see this?”

Roy thought about it. This was an easy out if he chose to take it. He wasn’t really comfortable being around Edward while he was in pain that Roy was unable to rectify. However, that was as good a reason to stay as it was to leave.

“I’m staying. I said I would.”

Pinako interjected before Edward got the chance to protest, “Good enough for me. What do you say we get this show started before nightfall?”

With that, the two automail experts began.

As the surgery progressed, Roy almost regretted staying. At one point, however, he was glad he had.

He’d somehow found his way to the head of Edward’s bed, on Edward’s left side so as to be out of the way of Pinako, who was focused on his shoulder port.

He couldn’t see him, but he swore that he could feel the alchemist’s choked back sobs. Not sure if the man was looking at him, Roy reached down the bed to grab Edward’s hand in his own.

“Edward,” He waited a moment, and then assumed Edward was looking at him or at least listening, “You are the single strongest person I have ever known.”

Edward groaned, “Bullshit.”

“It’s true.”

“Ya, well—”

“Edward,” Winry interrupted, “It’s time to connect the ports.”

Edward squeezed Roy’s hand, and Roy encased it in both of his own, “Fuck. Okay. Do it.”

“One,” Winry began.

“Two,” Pinako continued.

“Three!”

The scream Roy heard would likely haunt his dreams. His hand, the one held firmly by Edward, had also seen better days.

When the screaming stopped, Roy felt Edward fall back on to the bed. The younger man gasped, trying to regain composure, “Damn it, that never gets easier, does it?”

Pinako sighed, “I wish it did. But it only gets easier as quickly as our technology can advance.”

At this, Edward lets out a short laugh, “Well, there’s another idea for a research project.”

This kid was incredible.

“Now. When’s the soonest you can connect the automail?” Edward asked.

“Well,” Pinako hesitates, “We could do it now, but I’d prefer it if we—”

“Now works for me. Might as well get it over with.” Edward interrupts.

This time, Winry takes the wheel, “Edward, I really don’t think that’s the best idea.” Apparently sensing something from Edward’s expression that Roy could not, she sighed, “Fine. But you will remain in this bed for twenty-four hours, minimum. Is that understood?”

At his friend’s stern voice, Edward agreed. Roy felt as his hand was gripped tightly once again.

“General, would you mind holding his shoulder down as well?” Pinako asked, getting the automail arm into position as Winry did the same with his leg.

“Ya, might be smart. This is the most painful part. Also if you let go of my hand I might hit you. Reflex.” Edward grimaced.

Roy moved one hand to the man’s shoulder, maintaining his firm grip on his hand, “Of course. Least I can do.”

Edward snorted before the Rockbells counted down again and connected the automail. Another scream ripped itself from Edward’s throat, and Roy brought the man’s hand to his face, “Edward look at me. And do forgive me for the lack of eye contact.”

This time, it was a laugh that was forced from Edward’s body, though he was sobbing lightly as Winry and Pinako continued their work, “Bastard, making blind jokes at a time like this. Though maybe—” he groaned as another nerve was connected, “—maybe I don’t have a leg to stand on myself. Well, now I do but— _fuck_ , Winry!—but you get what I mean.”

Roy laughed, “I see your point.”

While Edward continued alternating between groaning and chuckling, Roy heard Pinako whisper to Winry, “They’re insufferable, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Winry laughed, “Wonder if they’ve said anything to each other yet.”

Well.

Roy would definitely file that information away to be brought up at a better time.

“ _Fuck_!” Roy turned his attention back to Edward.

“Last one, Edward I swear. Gramma, on three? One, two—” Edward swore and yelled once more.

“Damn it, you guys always do that! You said three!”

“Oh, whatever Ed, don’t be a baby,” Roy almost laughed at that, considering all that had just happened, “Can you move your fingers and toes for us?”

“Shit, that feels so much better,” Edward sighed, "is it weird that my shoulder hurts less now?" 

Pinako moved back from the table, “Wait until you’re moving and walking to say that. You can try tomorrow after dinner. For now, just rest and one of us will bring your dinner in a little bit, okay?”

Edward agreed, and Roy stood and began heading out the door, but then noticed that Edward hadn’t let go of his hand yet.”

“No! I mean…” Edward sighed, “Could… could you stay, Roy?”

Well, how could he say no to that?

Roy sat back down, and stroked Edward’s hair out of his face, noting it wasn’t in its usual braid, “Of course. Always.”

Roy didn’t even hear as Pinako and Winry gathered their things and left the room, shutting the door behind them He didn’t see the smiles on both of their faces, and if he could have, he likely wouldn’t have noticed anyway as Edward turned his face into Roy’s palm.

They both fell asleep like this until Hohenheim came for dinner. He, too, smiled at his eldest son and the general, before leaving their dinners, shaking their shoulder’s, and walking away before they’d woken completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm moving in four days and haven't packed. Then I start school Monday, so give me 'til at least the 24th to have anything new posted.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading! :) Kudos and comment if you like! ^_^


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I had a bought of insomnia and this was the result. 
> 
> Also, I'd like to clarify that for this story I've aged Roy down and Ed up. On my version of the Promised Day, Ed was 18 and Roy was 27. I'll clear up more details as they become relevant.
> 
> Comment, kudos, and follow if you'd like. And also, of course: Enjoy! :)

At lunch the next day, Edward was still bedridden. Roy had met the others in the dining room—after he and Lan Fan were done with their morning lessons—where Winry and Paninya had prepared sandwiches.

After Pinako had left to bring Edward his food and Alphonse had been escorted back to his room by Riza and May, Roy was left surrounded by Winry, Hohenheim, Paninya, Ling, and Lan Fan. It didn’t take long for the questioning to start, with the young Miss Rockbell kicking it off.

“So, General,” Winry drawled, taking a seat next to Roy, “What exactly are your intentions towards my best friend?”

While Roy choked on the tea he’d been drinking, Hohenheim interjected in confusion, “Intentions, what do you mean? Wait. No. Nope. No way. What are your intentions with my son, Mustang?”

Shrinking back into his chair, Roy shook his head, “I have none. Besides, even if I did it’s not as if—”

“—He’s interested in men? Oh trust me, Edward has no qualms when it comes to gender.”

There was silence as the room digested Ling’s admission.

Roy was the first to recover, “That wasn’t what I was going to say, Prince Ling, but thank you for that tidbit.”

“Aren’t you, like, twice his age anyway?”

At Paninya’s comment, both Roy and Hohenheim expressed their displeasure.

“It’s only nine years!”

“What’s wrong with an age difference?” Hohenheim growled, “I was already several hundred years old when I met Tisha.”

Again, an admission was met with silence.

“Okay, moving on, you just proved you’re interested, General,” Winry said, very obviously grinning.

“What!? How, no, no I did not.”

“I think the General doth protest too much.” Lan Fan quietly commented.

Roy was in disbelief at them all ganging up on him. Sure, he’d been feeling… something for the younger man for several years now. But he maintained that it was simply familial; Roy looked at Edward as one might look at a younger sibling. He would never—

Winry interrupted Roy’s internal dialogue, “I think you should tell him.”

Everyone waited for Roy’s response. Hell, Roy waited for Roy’s response.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Roy stood and retreated.

If it were to Edward’s room, no one felt the need to comment.

 

* * *

 

 

At dinner, Pinako declared Edward fit to walk to the dining room. When he refused help she hit him over the head and handed him a crutch.

Dinner was… nice. Everyone there felt like family to Ed, from the Xingese royals to the annoying ass general. Evening the arguing was nice.

“So Edward, short as ever I see.”

“You don’t see shit, bastard. And who the hell are you calling so short they need a ladder to climb a step?”

“Play nice, Edward, he didn’t say anything like that,” Hohenheim said from the opposite end of the table, a book in one hand and a spoon shoveling potatoes into his mouth in the other.

“Oh fuck you, you’re no better than he is. All tall and shit. Fuck you all, each and every one.”

“Hey!” May yells, “What’d I do? I’m shorter than you, and the only one here shorter than me is old lady Pinako!”

“Who the hell do you think you’re calling short, young lady?”

Riza leans over to whisper in Roy’s ear, “Now I see where Edward gets it from.” Lifting his hand to hide his smile, Roy chuckles quietly.

“Okay, enough of that,” Winry yells, standing and slapping her hands on the table making everything on it shake precariously, “Now, who wants dessert?”

To this, there were no protests.

 

* * *

 

 

After dinner, the group migrated to the living room to drink and chat.

As Ed sat down next to Al, he heard Roy run into something.

“What’s this?” The general asked Winry, who’d been guiding him over as they discussed the intricacies of war-specialized automail.

“Oh, it’s our piano. My mother used to play, but no one has since—”

“Since mom died and I lost my arm,” Ed interrupted, hobbling over and caressing the key cover, “She was amazing. Taught me, too. Al was always shit.”

“Hey!”

“You kinda were, Al,” Winry laughs, bumping her shoulder lightly into his as she sat next to him and adjusted the blanket in his lap, Paninya sitting on her other side.

“Well… I know but he didn’t have to say it like that!”

“Get over it Al, you’re good at loads of other shit. Music was always more my thing, though,” Ed sighed and turned back to where Roy, and now Hoenheim and the rest of the group, were listening intently, “Anyway, automail’s great and all, but I’ve never really been able to play the same.”

There was silence, and Ed looked away not wanting to see the pity in anyone’s eyes. He’d looked back at Roy’s request, “Would you mind helping me sit at the piano? And you should sit, as well.”

Ed nodded before feeling stupid and voicing his agreement, very aware of the others in the room watching.

When Roy sat, he lifted the key cover and cracked his knuckles, place his hands on the keys.

“Do you sing, Edward?”

“Well—”

“Hell yes, he does. Beautifully, too, just like his mother. Much better than Al,” Pinako announced, again ignoring Al’s token protest.

Ed looked down, hiding behind his hair as he again blushed, “Ya, I used too. Stopped singing when I stopped playing.”

“Well, you’ll start again today,” Roy smiled turning back to the piano, “Name a key.”

Ed sighed, worried he’d regret this and bit his lip before replying, “F. F major. Just chords at first.”

Roy nodded and arranged his hands on the keys, as the room around them waited with baited breath. Ed wasn’t sure he was ready for people to hear this song, yet. Or hear him sing at all, really, but he wanted to hear Roy play. As Roy began, Ed waited a moment before taking a deep breath.

“ _Just stop your crying, it’s a sign of the times_ ,” Roy’s hands stuttered, but he continued playing, so Ed decided he could keep going as well, “ _Welcome to the final show. I hope you’re wearing your best clothes._ ”

Behind them, Ed heard his father whisper, “You were right, Pinako. It’s like she’s in the room.”

“I didn’t realize how much I missed brother singing,” Al muttered. Ed pushed them out of his mind and focused on Roy’s hands as he played.

They were gorgeous.

For the next part, Ed jumped into falsetto, causing Hohenheim to let out a sound of surprise,

“ _We never learn, we been here before. Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? The bullets?_ ”

Hopefully, they don’t read into that.

“ _Just stop your crying, it’ll be alright. They told me that the end is near. We gotta get away from here._ ”

“ _Just stop your crying, have the time of your life. Breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here. Remember everything will be alright. We can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here._ ”

Ed could hear Winry crying. May, too. He again ignored them, getting pretty into it himself as Roy began playing around with riffs more.

The guy was damn good. Who needs eyes?

Well. Ed didn’t mean that. But, whatever.

“ _We don’t talk enough, we should open up before it’s all too much,_ ” Roy was crying now, too, silently, “ _Will we ever learn? We’ve been here before. It’s just what we know._ ”

Ed was crying too, and his eyes had closed. He was rocking to the music more than he should be considering his injuries, but he couldn’t help it. Every movement of his right arm hurt, but he couldn’t stop his gesturing.

“ _Stop your crying, baby, it’s a sign of the times. We gotta get away, we gotta get away,_ ” at Ed’s intensity, Roy changed to a harsher style as he started moving almost as much as Ed, “ _We got to, we got to, away, we got to, we got to, away, we got to, we got to, away._ ”

As Roy sensed that Ed had finished, he wrapped up the piano bit. Ed didn’t notice much. He was too busy breathing heavy, rattling breathes as he tried to get a hold of himself. He could hear Roy trying to catch his breath as well.

“Fuck.”

Everyone jumped as Paninya broke the silent moment.

“What? That was amazing! You guys sound perfect together, and holy hell, Ed, you go with that falsetto!” Ed turned to face them but looked at his hands, blushing yet again. He wasn’t sure whether he should be proud or embarrassed.

Or both, maybe. Ya, both are good.

“Brother, where did you get that song?”

“Um,” Ed scratched his neck, leaving his hand there as he looked over at his brother, “I wrote it?”

“You wrote that, Ed? Son, when did you do that? Have you always written music?”

“Yes, he has. He used to hide it in a box under the bed. I thought they were destroyed when we—”

Ed interrupted, “They burned with the house, Al. But I remember them all, photographic memories are damned useful. But no, I wrote that a couple of days before the Promised Day.”

At everyone’s surprised looks, Ed drew back disgruntled, “What? I write when I’m stressed.”

“But,” Ling shook his head, “Ed, I was with you the whole time. You never wrote anything.”

Ed moved over to the sofa where he could stretch out his leg easier, “I wrote it in my head.”

Hohenheim’s eyes followed his son as he moved across the room, “Ed, just how good is your memory? Also, purely out of curiosity, do you know your IQ?”

“I do,” Roy cuts in before Ed can comment, “It’s a required test upon entry into the state alchemist program. I remember his score because I was pissed it beat mine, as I was the record holder at the time. Mine is 160, which is fantastic by most people’s standards. Edward’s, however, is annoyingly extraordinary.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, bastard general. Not my fault I’m smarter than you. Whatever, so, what he’s saying is mine is 175.”

There was silence.

“Got all the questions right, and completed the test the quickest they’d ever seen. Anyway, my memory. Don’t know how good it is, never tested it. Let’s just say I remember every book I’ve ever read and every conversation I’ve ever had and leave it at that.”

More silence. Ed would swear he heard crickets.

“Well, that took a turn. I just wanted to play the piano. So Edward, how about another song? What else do you have hidden away in that superior brain of yours?”

Ed smirked before standing and limping toward the piano, and for the moment the conversation was pushed aside.

“Don’t ask stupid questions, of course I do. Key of D minor. Now scooch.”

The two played into the night until they were the last awake. They fell asleep on the couch, too lazy and tired to attempt the journey to their respective beds.

When Winry woke in the middle of the night for a glass of water, Ed’s head was in Roy’s lap and Roy’s next lay at a dangerous angle. Careful not to wake them, she rearranged them a bit and placed blankets over them both.

When she walked away it was with a tired smile on her face.

She forgot her water.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Ed "wrote" is "Sign of the Times" by Harry Styles


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love Madame Christmas

It wasn’t until just under a week later that Ed felt comfortable working out again. He tried to keep it light, just basic bodyweight movements, but as he worked out he got more confident. He’d fucking missed it, and it was nice stretching his muscles again.

After his workout, Ed went to observe Roy’s lessons. For one, he was curious. But also, he wanted to talk with Lan Fan and Ling before lunch.

“Ed, how’s it going? Have you,” Ling leaned closer to Ed squinting, “Have you been working out? Should you be doing that yet?”

“He’s trying to beat my record,” Lan Fan smirked.

Ed shook his head, “No, I’m not. I’m trying to get back in shape before that bastard decides he’s ready to return to Central. Can’t have him doing anything too stupid without me there.”

“Hey, I can handle my self, thank you very much,” Roy interjected, slightly offended.

Ed laughed, “I don’t doubt that, Roy. Just think everyone’s stronger together these days, ya?”

To this Roy, had no response.

Walking closer to where Ed stood, Lan Fan asked: “How can we help you, Ed?”

“Well,” Ed sighs, shifting his weight, “I wanted to observe your lesson. Purely out of curiosity. I actually had some questions I wanted to ask you about the Dragon’s Pulse if you had time.”

“We were actually just wrapping up, but I’d like to work some more after lunch. Maybe you could join in if that’s alright with Roy?”

“Fine by me. But can we please go now, I am starving,” came Roy’s hurried reply as he all but ran back toward the house.

* * *

 

“Can you tell me why, exactly, you have to travel all the way out here?”

As soon as they’d finished lunch, Roy, Lan Fan, and Ed had trecked out to the lake out past old man Norman’s farm. A twenty-minute walk, minimum, without the trio’s current handicaps taken into account.

Ed did his best to hide how much the walk had fucked with his leg, especially after his workout that morning.

“Because,” Lan Fan sighed, “We need to be as far away from large groups of people, at least for this part of the training. We’ll start off meditating, but before we do that, why did you want to be here Edward?”

Ed will admit, he had kind of been dreading this part. While he refused to admit to feeling anything other than hard-earned respect for Roy, he grudgingly had to admit that the idea of anything happening to the bastard sent him into a panic. What with Hawkeye’s tentative plan being to take over as head of Central headquarter’s security, Roy was missing out on a bodyguard. Ed wasn’t sure he trusted anyone to take that position, other than himself. And to do that, he was going to learn from the best bodyguard he’d ever met.

Glancing over at the man who had earned his loyalty, Ed explained, “I made a promise a couple years back to a mutual friend of ours,” at this, Roy raised a brow but Ed quickly continued on, “a promise I intend on keeping. ‘Sides, this asshole needs a bodyguard if Hawkeye’ll be taking over security. You’re a badass, so I thought I’d see if you’d teach me what you know.”

When neither Lan Fan nor Roy had any argument, Lan Fan nodded and gestured that they sit down.

“Sure you’ll be able to sit and be quiet, Edward?”

“Shut it, bastard. You don’t know jack about me.”

“Okay, save it for later,” Lan Fan interrupted, smirking at them, “Roy, we’ll be doing what we started yesterday. Edward, the basic philosophy in Xing, as you know, is that there exists a flow of energy within the earth. We call it the Dragon’s Pulse, or Lung Mei. This energy is in all things and is constantly moving.

When we sense, locate, and track the Qi of living beings, it is by utilizing the Dragon’s Pulse. I’d go into more depth, but I’m sure you know most of it.”

Ed nodded, but in his mind, he was already creating a list of things he would like to discuss with both Al and May present.

Taking his nod as a sign to continue, Lan Fan said, “What we are doing now is learning to block out all outside stimuli other than the Dragon’s Pulse so as to build a closer, more active connection with it. Only by doing this will you be able to sense the Qi of others. Do you know much about meditating.”

“Ya of course,” Ed nodded, “Teacher had Al and I do it as part of her ‘to train the body is to train the mind and all that.’ Sorry, I gotta do it all weird today, though. Can’t sit cross-legged for too long what with the bum leg and shit.”

As Ed said all this, he transmuted a raised platform where he sat with both feet flat on the ground and his hands each resting on a knee. At Lan Fan’s words of understanding, Ed let his eyes fall shut and began attempting to clear his mind.

He started off by counting his breathes. It wasn’t long before they’d fallen into a steady rhythm and he stopped counting.

This was around the time when Roy began wiggling around to his left. As Lan Fan scolded him, Ed pushed the sound of their voices out of his mind. A few breathes in, Ed began to feel… something. It was like a rush of air followed by air being sucked in, like the ocean’s tides or something. With each rush of air came a sense of warmth. Ed’s brows knit together in confusion before he allowed them to smooth. He began breathing to match the pulse.

Before he knew it, Ed registered Lan Fan’s gentle voice, guiding them back to earth. She was looking at him with barely concealed surprise.

Ya, he got that a lot.

“What was that?” He asked her.

Roy let out a sound of confusion before asking, “What was what?”

Ed ignored him and continued on, “It was like breathing, I guess. And warmth, too. Like when you’re close to someone and you can feel them breathing, their breath hitting your skin.”

“Good job, Edward. That was the Dragon’s Pulse. I can’t believe you got there on your first try,” Lan Fan responded in shock.

Ed shrugged, “People tend to underestimate my ability to sit and be quiet. Anyway, it’s not all that different from what teacher taught me. She taught Al and me to focus on our own breathing, and once I did that for a bit I felt the Dragon’s Pulse. Then I started matching my breathing to that.”

“Huh,” Roy muttered, “Hadn’t tried that. I have trouble sitting still for too long. The Madame always says it’s because of my ‘troubled childhood,’ whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

“It is a good method, I just hadn’t thought to have you try it. In Xing, we’re raised on the Dragon’s Pulse, so latching onto that is as natural to most as breathing. I’d assumed—”

“—That because I’m Xingese also, it would come easily to me?” Roy guessed.

“Something along those lines, yes.”

“Roy’s Xingese like I’m Xerxian,” Ed commented, “I look exactly like what they did, and even by blood I’m Xerxian, but I know jack shit about the culture.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, considering the Xingese are still around unlike the Xerxian—sorry, Edward—and I did spend my younger years there, but yes, something along those lines. I came to Amestria when I was eight, and before that, I didn’t exactly have a typical home life.”

Ed looked at Lan Fan and carefully shook his head, warning her to not question Roy further on his family history, before he asked Roy, “Do you speak Xingese?”

Roy lifted his hand in a so-so gesture, “I do, but I rarely have the opportunity so it’s pretty rusty. Besides, it’s not formal Xingese, more of a commoner’s dialect. Sometimes my aunt and I would speak it, but mostly we stuck to Amestrian.”

Ed nodded, filing that information in the “questions to ask Madame Christmas” category of his mind.

“Well, I think that’s enough for today. What do you two say we head back so we can wash up before dinner?”

After Ed and Roy agreed to Lan Fan’s question, the trio made their way back to the Rockbell house. 

* * *

 

As the merry band of misfits sat down to enjoy the roast lamb Hohenheim had prepared, they heard a knock on the door. It was a testament to all they’d been through that tension immediately fell heavy in the room.

Roy heard as Pinako slowly stood and began walking toward the door, closely fallowed by Den and Lan Fan. As she opened the door and greeted the newcomer, the rest of the group held their breaths.

And oh, Roy would recognize that gravelly voice anywhere.

“We’re just looking for some idiot who thought it would be okay to skip town without telling me where he was heading.”

Roy smirked and stood up, feeling the eyes of the others follow him as he moved towards the door.

“Madame,” Roy smirked, “Beautiful as ever, I’m sure. It is good to hear your voice.”

“Oh, Roy boy,” came his aunt’s flat reply, “What did you do to yourself?”

And that is how Roy found himself knocked to the ground by crying women.

“Okay, okay, yes, hello,” Roy struggled, trying to find his way back to his feet, “Good lord, how many of you came? Hello Diane. Alyssa, Ashley, Niome, Natalie, Christine. What is with this entourage?”

He felt his shoulder get pinched as a voice he recognized to be Niome spoke, “We were worried about you asshole! Turns out we had a right to be, now you’re—” the rest of her sentence was drowned out as Christine spoke over her, “Besides, it’s your birthday. Don’t tell me you forgot again?”

Roy was silent. He had.

“You did, didn’t you?” the Madame chuckled, “It is indeed May 11th, Roy boy.”

“Okay, but—”

Roy was unable to finish his sentence as he was cut off by the clearing of a voice. He turned towards the table in response to Edward’s voice, “Um, hello? What’s happening? Also, why the hell did I not know it was your birthday?”

“Of all people to question him about not announcing his birthday, brother—”

“Be quiet Al, you’re as bad as I am and you know it.”

Before a full on war could begin, Roy began introductions, “Everyone this is my aunt and some of my sisters. Ladies, introduce yourselves please and thank you.”

“My name is Chris Mustang, but everyone calls me Madame Christmas. We came to see how Roy boy is doing.”

“Would you please stop calling me that, Madame? I’m not eight anymore.”

“I will stop calling you Roy boy the day you stop calling me Madame, or the day I stop breathing. Whichever comes first.”

It was Hohenheim who cut in before Roy could respond, “This is touching and all, but if you wouldn’t mind take your seats, I would very much like to eat this lamb before it goes cold. I worked very hard andI’m incredibly proud of it.”

Apparently, the shock of Hohenheim pouting was enough to convince everyone to sit down.

* * *

 

“If that’s as far as you’ve gotten in your little plan, Roy boy, I’ll have to disown you.”

At Madame Christmas’ lackluster reaction to the bastard’s half-assed plan, Ed had to hold back a snort. Admittedly, this plan hadn’t been Roy’s best work.

“That is not the whole plan, Madame. I apologize, but there has been a lot going on thank you. That aside, I had hoped to discuss it with you in depth before I put the plan into effect, anyway,” poorly hidden offense colored Roy’s face as he attempted to gain back some respect.

The Madame nodded sagely, pulling her cigarette away from her face, “Ya, you’ve never been great at planning.”

Raising a brow at this, Ed considered. He’d never go that far: the bastard’s plans had gotten him this far, after all. Saved Ed’s own neck more times than he could count. Then again, Roy had to have learned it from somewhere.

“Fine. Walk me through your plan again, and we’ll work over each detail until it makes some sort of sense.”

Roy sighed and dropped his head to his chest, before looking up again and rolling his eyes, “Yes, ma’am,” this time Ed did snort at the Madame’s unamused face, and Roy smirked before continuing, “in my eyes, the most important part of my plan is that I have someone I can trust keeping track of each district, including Xing and Ishval.”

“And you’ll use, what, a tier system? A rank system? That’ll get complicated real quick, kid.”

“Yes, Madame, I am aware of that. It is, however, the only way I can think to keep myself as separate from it as possible, as well as limit military involvment in areas of high tension.”

“Those areas being Xing and Ishval, yes?”

“Correct, but also the East and the West. Tensions have been high at the western border, and the East stopped trusting the military the moment the Ishvalan war broke out.”

“Damn right we did,” Pinako muttered.

The Madame let out something that wasn’t quite a laugh before asking, “And who were you thinking you’d have as these trustworthy people?”

Roy leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and steepling his hands elegantly. Pinako looked like she wanted to say something about elbows on the table, but after years of dealing with Ed she’d given up on that concept.

“Ling in Xing until he becomes Emperor, at which point Alphonse will become the ambassador and replace him as our contact. Miles in Ishval as No Name would never agreee to help me directly. Pinako here, as I trust Edward and Hohenheim, and they trust her. Winry in the west for the same reason. I’m working on having Alex stationed in West City, and Olivier will watch over the north as long as I agree to secure her position at Briggs.”

“And what if we don’t want to be your eyes, General?” Pinako looked hesitant at excepting such an offer, but not unwilling.

Roy looked towards her and raised his brow, “Wouldn’t you?”

When she did not deny it, the Madame continued her questioning, “How many tiers are we talking?”

Roy leaned back in his chair, “Five, I think. The third tier would be the ground men, feeding information to the second tier. Second tier would feed the information to the first tier, of which their will be one in each district. First tier will bring what they know to Edward, who will bring what he knows to me.”

“That seems like a pretty loose structure, kid.”

To this, Roy nods.

Ed thinks for a moment, “What if all the information given to me is given in a different code depending on the district it’s from, or given exclusively orally.”

The Madame snorted, “Ya right, kid. You’d have to have a perfect memory for that, remembering all the diffect codes. And would you be able to remember the conversations well enough to not mess up any important details?”

Ed looked around, skrinking back slightly before sitting up straighter and repeating every word since the Madame had arrived. Quickly, so there was no space between the words, making it almost impossible to dicipher but the look and her face told him she could.

To Ed’s left, Roy let out a long whistle.

“Okay, kid,” the Madame nodded, “Fair enough. This just might work out, after all, Roy boy.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter. I've been in a rough spot creatively lately and haven't felt like writing much, which is the reason for the hiatus. I'll try to get another chapter posted before the New Year.
> 
> Anyway, if anyone is interested in beta reading another FMA fic I have in the works, let me know! This one will only have two or three more chapters, but the new one will be a longer series with similar elements to this. 
> 
> Enjoy!

After dinner, the group plus the Madame and her girls migrated to the piano room, as they had every night since Ed could walk.

Ed stood on Roy’s right, allowing him to grab his elbow as they walked.

“Are we playing again today, birthday boy?”

“Please don’t call me that, Edward. And yes, I’d like to if you don’t mind.”

As the two sat down, Paninya blurted out, “Oh ya, they said it’s your birthday! How old are you, like fifty?”

Over Roy’s sputtering, the Madame questioned, “the hell you mean, fifty? Does that look like a fifty-year-old man to you? Kid’s only twenty-seven.”

Eyes lighting up, Ed turned to Roy, “Really? Wait,” he quickly tried to do math in his head, but the numbers weren’t adding up, “how old were you at the academy?”

“I took and passed the state alchemist exam on my fifteenth birthday,” Roy said, clearing his throat, “I was the youngest state alchemist in history until you came around. Like my IQ was the highest until you came around. And the alchemist of the people until you came around.”

Ed laughed, clapping the man on the back, “Gotta step your game up, old man.”

“I thought,” Roy said with gritted teeth, “That we just established I’m not old!”

“Hey, I’ll stop calling you old when you stop calling me short. ‘Sides, you’re still older than me,” Ed laughed as he heard, but chose to ignore, the Madame telling them to get a room.

“Can we just play now?” Roy sighed.

Ed smiled, “Ya, fine. What key?”

“You’re not picking?”

“Nah, you say a key and I’ll come up with something. My mom and I used to do it all the time, before—”

Cutting him off before he killed his own good mood, Roy bumped his shoulder and said, “Fine. How about…” he tilted his head before straightening and playing a chord.

“C minor, I like it. Okay, let’s go.”

Ed took a moment to watch Roy play, faster and more upbeat than usual. He’d never admit it, but his favorite thing about when they did this was watching Roy’s hands dance across the keys. Hands that had created so much destruction, but could also play something so beautiful.

“I don’t think I’ve heard him play since the war,” the Madame mumbled, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

Riza sighed, “I don’t think he has.”

Ed filed that away before he realized he should probably start singing.

“ _I remember when I remember I remember when I lost my mind. There was something so special about that place. Even your emotions have an echo, in so much space._ ”

As Ed sang, he could hear one of the girls asking where the song came from.All his friends and family just shook their head, not really knowing. Ed pushed that aside and continued.

“ _And when you’re out there, without care, yeah, I was out of touch. But it wasn’t because I didn’t know enough. I just knew too much,_ ” Ed closed his eyes.

“ _Does that make me crazy? Does that make me crazy? Does that make me crazy? Possibly._ ”

Opening his eyes again, he looked at Roy, who was smiling softly as he played. Ed couldn’t help smiling himself, just looking at the man. As he kept going, the song kept sounding more and more like it was directed to this impossible guy.

“ _And I hope that you are having the time of your life. But think twice, that’s my only advice._ ”

By this point, Ed was having too much fun. He swayed to the music.

“ _Come on now, who do you, who do you who do you who do you think you are? Ha, ha, ha, bless your soul. You really think you’re in control?”_

Ed paused, and Roy interjected, “ _Well?_ ” causing Ed to let out a bark of laughter before rolling with it, “ _I think you’re crazy, I think you’re crazy, I think you’re crazy, just like me._ ”

Ed placed a hand on Roy’s shoulder, “ _My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on a limb, and all I remember is thinkin’, ‘I wanna be like them,’_ “

“ _Ever since I was little, ever since I was little, it looked like fun. And it’s no coincidence I’ve come. And I can die when I’m done._ ”

Roy riffed a little longer, as Ed hummed along. When Roy stopped, Ed followed suit. Noticing Roy hadn’t taken his hands off the keys, Ed touched his elbow lightly and bumped his shoulder when he jumped and turned his head. Roy smiled at him, “I liked that one.”

Ed grinned, grabbing and squeezing Roy’s hand before jumping up, “How about a bonfire? I chopped up some wood this morning and I have some salts I’d like to try throwing in to see the colors and shit.

As everyone agreed and followed Ed outside, he couldn’t help but notice Roy and his aunt hanging back.

 

* * *

 

 

Ed sat next to the fire he’d built, blue and green and pink from the compounds he’d thrown in. He was surrounded by friends and family, laughing and trading stories, but he couldn’t help his attention being repeatedly drawn back to the house.

He felt himself be pushed lightly, and turned to see Al looking at him carefully.

“Go,” his brother whispered trying to avoid catching the attention of the others, “You’re worried about him, go.”

“He has his aunt with him, I’m sure he’s fine.”

“You know he feels the same about you, right?”

At Paninya’s comment, Ed realized that everyone in the circle was looking at him.

Blushing at the sudden unwanted attention, Ed looked at his hands. His contrasting hands.

“You can’t know that for sure. ‘Sides, why would he be interested in me?”

Everyone was silent for a moment. The only ones who had seen him down like this were Al, Winry, and Ling. The rest was used to him being brash and loud, and eye-catching. And he knew he would be embarrassed in the morning after being vulnerable, but he was just so fucking tired of hiding this kind of shit all the time. Of playing strong so everyone else felt safe to be weak.

“You don’t have to be emotionless around us, Edward,” Ed looked up to see Hawkeye looking at him, “You’re allowed to have feelings.”

Ed nodded but didn’t say anything. There was more silence, broken by one of the Madame’s girls—Niome, Ed’s brain supplies—saying, “If it’s ‘cause you’re a guy, don’t worry about that. Roy’s bisexual.”

Another girl, Alyssa, nods saying, “And if it’s because he has a reputation for sleeping around, don’t worry about that, either. That’s bullshit. That’s just the information network’s cover.”

Crossing his arms, Ed nodded, “I know all that. It’s not about him at all, really. Just don’t think I’m a particularly good person to be with, is all. Little too much like my old man, I guess.”

Everyone tensed. Ed was brought out of his head by Al’s objection,

“Brother! Don’t say things like that, it’s not—”

“Alphonse, it’s alright. I think I understand what he means,” Hohenheim looked Ed in the eyes, “It’s because I left. But being someone who moves around like you does not mean that you will do that…”

“But I do!” Ed interrupted, “I leave. I tell someone that they matter to me, I make promises and shit I plan on keeping about coming back to them, and then I leave and break those promises. I’ve been lucky enough, so far, that most of them understood and forgave me, but none of them are him. He’d be different.”

Ed sighed, looking away, “He’s different, but I’m not. I’ll hurt him like I did Winry,” he continued, ignoring Winry’s objection, “like I did Rosé. And Russell. And Austin. And Ruth. Hell,” Ed laughed without humor, “even Ling.” Everyone looked over at Ling with varying degrees of surprise, but he only looked at Ed.

“Ed, I knew that wasn’t permanent. I counted on it. I’d be willing to bet that’s how most of those you’ve been with have felt. We never forgave you because there was never anything to forgive. Right, Winry?”

Nodding and moving over to sit next to Ed, leaning her head on his shoulder and grabbing his hand, “Ed, you’re my best friend. We didn’t work out, and that’s fine because I love you and I know you feel the same. If it weren’t for having slept with you, I’d call you my brother.”

Ed gagged at that but smiled when he felt Winry laughing at his side. He wrapped his arm around her, gently pulling her into his lap, “What do I do, Win,” he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on her shoulder, “You’re my best friend, give me advice and shit.”

Hugging Ed’s arms around her stomach, Winry sighed, “Well one, stop sleeping with anything that breathes,”

“Hey! I’m not that bad,” Ed objected uncertainly, “Am I?”

“Yes, you are,” came the replies of Al and Ling, as Hohenheim covered his ears and made odd noises in an attempt to drown them all out. When Ed smirked at that, Hohenheim smiled at him.

“Just tell him,” Winry said.

Ed sighed, “Win,” he whispered, “I really don’t think I’m good enough for him.”

Winry looked at him sadly, “I know you don’t. But you are. And I know you won’t listen to me when I say that, so I’ll say this: don’t you think he has the right to make that decision for himself.”

Ed sighed and looked toward the fire. He felt as Winry moved off of him and kissed him on the forehead.

“Go inside, Edward Elric,” she laughed, “Don’t want to piss off your mechanic, do you?”

Standing up and hugging her, Ed said, “No, I do not. Fine, fine, I’ll go. If you hear screaming don’t worry, that’s usually how our conversations end up going anyway.”

He let go of the girl who was both his ex-girlfriend and his absolute best friend and made his way back toward the house.

 

* * *

 

 

“Kid’s good.”

Roy tensed. He was so out of it, he hadn’t noticed he wasn’t alone.

“Yes,” he whispered, “Yes, he is.”

The Madame walked over, dragging him up and over to the couch where she sat with a groan, “So what’s the problem, Roy?”

Roy sighed, sitting next to the women that raised him, “The kid’s good.”

“What, and you’re not?” the Madame sighed, “You’re one hell of a piano player—no, shut up, I know what you meant but let me talk—I nearly cried, it’s been so long since I heard you play. He lights up just watching you play. And if anyone understands what it’s like to walk through hell their entire life, it’s him. He’ll understand your past whether you admit any of it to him or not.”

The Madame continued, as if going through a list, “You’ve killed, and I know how much that weighs on you, but he does too and yet he is still willing to touch you and hold your hand. You’re too smart for your own good and that’s ruined relationships in the past, but he’s as smart if not smarter. He’s younger, but not by much and he’s very obviously been through more than most people _my_ age. So, I’ll ask again, what’s the problem?”

“I’m not whole anymore, Madame!” Roy yelled as he stood up, shoulder’s shaking, “I haven’t been for a long time. I don’t sleep at night because I can see the faces of all those people I’ve killed! I drink too much because it’s the only way to shut up the voices, I’m more scar tissue than skin, if it gets too hot I forget how to breathe, I’m too ambitious for my own good, and to top it all off, I’m blind now. And,” Roy moved to sit again, “What if I’m like him?”

“Like who, Roy?” the Madame asked, though her tone of voice told him she knew.

Roy just sat there for a moment, before sighing, “Like my bastard father.”

“There’s something we have in common.”

Roy’s head shot up at Edward’s voice.

“Well,” the Madame slapped her knees and stood, “I’ll just go meet the others outside, how ‘bout that?”

Roy felt as his hand was taken into the others, one warm, one cool and unforgiving.

“Walk with me, Roy?”

Roy could only nod.

 

* * *

 

 

“Where are we?”

Ed looked up from where he’d been gathering his thoughts, seeing Roy who had yet to move since Ed dropped his hand.

“We’re at the place my house used to be. Before Al and I burned it down. Now, there’s just a tree and some rubble.”

“And why are we here?”

Ed pulled Roy until they were both sitting, leaning against the tree. He looked at the swing—the one Hohenheim had put up—that was barely holding on.

Fitting.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he sighed, “Figured this was the best place. Quiet. Out of the way. For me, at least, this is where it all started.” Roy nodded.

They were both silents for a while, each gathering their thoughts. Finally, it was Roy who spoke, “You know how I feel, I assume?”

“Ya,” Ed turned to him, “I think so. And I wanted to tell you… I wanted to tell you that you shouldn’t. You’ll only get yourself hurt.”

Roy turned, his eyebrows knitting together, “Edward, what do you mean?”

“People who get close to me get hurt. I don’t just mean physically, Roy, or by outside forces, I can’t do shit about. I mean cause of me.”

Ed turned away and ran his hands through his hair. He wasn’t sure why this was so hard to say.

Oh, wait—

Ed reached into his pocket and pulled out the case he kept there, shaking a cigarette into his hand. Lighting it, Ed looked out over what little he could see in the darkness.

—Yes, he was. Ed wanted Roy. He wanted to hold his hand, he wanted to hold him when he was upset, he wanted to be someone important in Roy’s life. Yet, here he was trying to tell Roy all the reasons he was a bad person to keep around.

Ed blew out the smoke.

“Are you,” Roy squinted, “are you trying to talk me out of having feelings for you?”

Ed flinched, but nodded, “Ya. Ya, I am.”

Roy raised a brow, “Do you have feelings for me?”

“… Ya. Ya, I do.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m damaged goods, Roy! I swear too much, I’m an insomniac, and whenever I do sleep I wake up screaming. I sleep around too much, I let people get attached to me and then I just leave, just like my fucking father. I smoke,” he raises the cigarette in his left hand and waves it around, “because a guy I slept with down south got me hooked and it calms me down., so add that to the list of shitty coping mechanisms. I fucking hate thunderstorms cause it was storming that night Al and I… well, you know,” Ed took another drag, letting it out slowly, “I got a long list of problems, Roy.”

Roy sat there, shocked for a moment. He held his hand out, a silent request, and took his time lighting the offered cigarette before handing Ed back his lighter. Sighing, he turned slightly towards Ed, “How much of the conversation with my aunt did you hear, Edward?”

“Got there around the ‘I’m not whole any more’ part.”

“Than you know I’m less than perfect myself.”

Ed sighed, “Ya. I guess.”

Roy took a long drag of his cigarette, “I was born in Amestris, but my mother took me to Xing shortly after. To get away from my father.”

Roy’s shoulders were starting to tense, so Ed grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Roy looked down, relaxing slowly, and continued on, “He found us. He was an abusive piece of shit,” Roy snarled, “But my mother was too afraid to do anything. She shielded me from the worst of it, but she couldn’t always protect me.”

Roy went to lift his shirt some, handing Ed the cigarette as he did so. He twisted and pointed to a long, jagged scar. It was mostly faded, but must’ve been pretty nasty, “That one’s from the night my mother died. It was my fifth birthday.”

“Roy…”

Roy shook his head, putting his shirt back on and taking back the cigarette, “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. Anyway, my mother had wanted to celebrate, so she’d gotten me a pastry and snuck it into my room. He didn’t like that, and followed her in.”

Roy’s eyes were closed now as if picturing it, “He slashed me with a switchblade, first, before my mother told me to run. And I did, I ran so fast and so far I didn’t really know where I was,”

“When I went back to the house, she was dead. He’d stabbed her through the chest with a broken beer bottle, and then he killed himself,” Roy sighed, and reached out for Ed’s hand again, holding it tightly, “I grabbed his money, some alcohol, and an old rag and ran again. Found an alley and fixed up my shoulder as good as a five-year-old could, and slept. Spent the next three years scamming people for food and money, all the while sleeping in alleys by myself, until my aunt came to hunt down her brother. Hadn’t heard from him and got worried. When she asked around and everyone said that he and my mother were dead, she asked about me. When they said they didn’t know what happened to me, she made it her mission to find me.”

“She found me, kicked my ass when I tried to run and said she was bringing me to Amestris to get my act together. I was eight,” Roy turned his head and smirked at Ed, “Wanna tell me about fucked up?”

“Fair enough,” Ed nodded, “But you’re worried about what you could—however unlikely I think it is—become. I’m worried about what I know I already am.”

In the end, Ed was looking at their joined hands on Roy’s thigh. He felt Roy’s other hand reach up and lift his chin, pulling him forward to touch their foreheads together.

“I like who you are,” when Ed went to protest, Roy silenced him by covering his mouth, “But if it helps, know that if you step out of line I am still capable of kicking your ass. As is Riza. And my aunt. And quite possibly your brother, if I ask _rea_ l nice,” as Roy spoke he allowed the hand over Ed’s mouth to rise up and hold the side of his face, thumb softly and lazily stroking Ed’s cheek.

Smiling, Ed raised his free hand—the automail—and place it over top Roy’s. Ed nodded, “Alright. Fine, we can try.”

Roy grinned and leaned in.


End file.
